


capitulation

by basketofnovas (slashmarks)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (what's the opposite of a redemption arc? this is that.), Canon Compliant, Child Abuse, Child Murder, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Corruption, Death Eaters, Diary/Journal, Epistolary, F/M, Murder, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:56:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22634620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmarks/pseuds/basketofnovas
Summary: Excerpts from Rodolphus Lestrange's journals, age fourteen to twenty-six.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange & Rodolphus Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 30





	capitulation

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Child sexual abuse, abused youngish teenager being precociously into sex, physical abuse, murder including of children, men generally being publicly creepy about young girls, grief, implicit downer ending.
> 
> This is the nastiest thing I've written in a while but none of the violence or sex is actually graphic, if you're wondering whether to continue.
> 
> Towards the end, vaguely references events of [all time is unredeemable](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19057996).

**November 10, 1956**

I had sex with a girl for the first time today. It was Liese Fortescue, she's a year above Ulysse and I. She's only a halfblood, so it isn't like it's serious, but I wanted to try it out - you know, sex with someone you want to be having sex with.

It's different that way, or with girls, or both. I wasn't very sure what I was doing but I remembered what Uncle R said about it - being a gentleman meaning asking when you aren't sure, and making sure she enjoys herself first, and being honest about your intentions if you aren't going to propose - and it seemed to go okay. 

Liese has this really dense, curly reddish hair - I wondered if it would feel like sheep wool, but it doesn't, it's a lot softer - and her nipples are almost brown, and she made the funniest noises when I touched them. She's not a virgin, she didn't say who but just that it wasn't her first time, but then she's a year and a half older than me, she turned sixteen last month and I won't be fifteen until April. 

Women taste different than men, too. I was afraid I'd hate it and I'd make a face or gag or something and she'd get upset but it wasn't bad, I just wanted water when we were done.

I'm not sure whether I'm seeing her or not - casually, I mean, since I can't marry her. I'd better ask Ulysse to help me work out whether I can ask _her_ that or I need to figure it out without offending her. I wouldn't mind doing it for a while and I don't think Father will get upset about it, either; she might be a halfblood but the Fortescues are reasonably respectable, it's not like she's a mudblood or anything, and she's pretty and has manners and all.

Unless he gets mad that I'm seeing _anyone_. I'll have to think about that.

Happy birthday, Regina. You would have been eleven today. 

**June 23, 1958**

We have about two weeks and then it's the day.

I don't know what to think. Well, I do know and I'm terrified. It's not even the meeting itself, that's a blank hole in my mind, I can't picture it so I can't be afraid. It's Father - even if everything goes alright and Ulysse is right that they won't kill both of us together, his reaction after will be terrible. 

Normally I would think Uncle R would get me out of the house with him for a few weeks if it gets too bad, like when Father found out about Liese fourth year or over Christmas when he found out I'd written to Master Parsoma in Egypt about a ward-crafting apprenticeship pending my OWLs coming back. But Uncle R is the one who was the Dark Lord's school friend. It's really much more him we're defying than Father.

It's funny how for years and years I believed Uncle R was as helpless as me - I mean, Father is Head, right? He's Lord Viscount and paterfamilias and everything and Uncle R is just the younger son. But Uncle R _lets_ Father push him around, really; he's the one who has the Dark Lord's ear, and he's the better duelist and the one who most of the house likes and whose wife is a duelist. If he ever wanted to stop Father he could have, and he wants to want to but he doesn't, not really.

I don't know if you can tell, but I've been a little angry with him since Christmas.

Anyway I don't know that I can blame him, precisely; I can't defy Father either and I'm old enough to understand now that if Father would do that to me it's a general preference and not something I enticed in particular. (I just hope Rabastan isn't old enough yet. I hope Father dies before he's old enough. Maybe the Dark Lord will send him to do something dangerous and an Auror will get him.) So probably Uncle R has the same problem I do and it's a bit like being under a compulsion, isn't it?

But I'm not going to be like that as Head, I swear. I've always tried to be like Uncle R in comparison to Father - you know, with the house and with women and everything - because Mother loves him and because he's always been kind to me, but he's failed at everything he's tried to do in his life, hasn't he?

**July 6, 1958**

Ulysse is dead.

**July 10, 1958**

What's the _point?_

**July 31, 1958**

Ulysse is dead and I killed him.

They made me do it - I mean I wouldn't have just to save myself I'm not _that_ stupid and selfish but they were torturing him and they said they'd keep doing it until I gave in and I didn't know if they were lying or not but obviously if I didn't they would anyway and he looked at me and he said _please_ and I thought he wanted me to and he was in so much pain, so--

What if he wasn't? What if he really meant, please save me, or please don't do it?

He would have died anyway. I'd have died with him. I wish I'd died with him, there's no point in living like this, there's a fucking _brand_ on my _arm_ like a _cow_. No, not a cow, I'm not a meat animal, it's more like being a prize stallion or something, I guess. Like livestock, is my point, and how the fuck does anyone think he's trying to _raise our position_?

Uncle R knew him in school, he must have been involved in these plans, what's _wrong_ with him?

Father's ecstatic, of course. He always detested sharing me with Ulysse, he doesn't want me to have anyone but him. I haven't felt up to fighting or being difficult lately or hiding in Mother's rooms, either. I just don't care. 

Nothing feels good or bad anymore. I just keep remembering Ulysse is dead and I don't care. Father dragged me out hunting with him and his _friends_ yesterday and he raped a six year old girl and then he made me fuck her after him, and of course I couldn't stay hard and he used that fucking spell on me and it didn't even really upset me, I just did it and went home and dreamed about Ulysse dying again. I wish-

**August 3, 1958**

Slit my wrists after last entry, woke up in hospital. Next time need to remember to get outside the wards first so Father isn't notified.

**August 10, 1958**

They're not letting me out of the house alone until school starts so I'll have to do it there. I wonder if the Hogwarts wards can detect students dying? First Hogsmeade visit shouldn't be after mid-October at the latest so I can do it then. If I go into the hills they probably won't notice me missing until curfew and it'll take days to find me, so it should be too late by then.

**August 25, 1958**

If I die, Mother will be alone with them.

**September 3, 1958**

Everyone is worried about me, even, and this is a trip, Slughorn. It just takes too much effort to talk to people. I'm doing my Prefect duties, of course, but I haven't really been up to much else. The teachers are confused because my O.W.L.s were so good - I didn't mention that, it hardly matters with Ulysse dead - so I should be happy, shouldn't I?

The only exception is the other boys who were initiated in July, because of course most of them actually wanted to be there so they watched, and it's not hard to guess I was going to refuse, too. So they all think I'm pathetic, as though it's a mark of cowardice to not _want_ to go about murdering children for that halfblood hypocrite.

At least if I'm in class or doing homework I'm distracted. Meeting with Slughorn tomorrow to discuss adding two classes to my N.E.W.T. schedule. I don't want to have time to think.

I can't decide whether to kill myself or not. On the one hand, living like this, on the other leaving Mother alone.

**October 16, 1958**

Well, I went out to Hogsmeade by myself with my boot knife last weeekend, and I went into the hills and sat down and I put my knife to my wrist and sat there for an hour and I didn't do it.

Rodolphus Lestrange, coward of the year. Can't even commit suicide right.

There's always next visit, I guess.

**November 10, 1958**

Happy birthday, Regina. Maybe I'll see you and Ulysse soon.

**December 10, 1958**

I'm not going home for Christmas, I don't care how many howlers Father sends.

**June 15, 1959**

Slit my wrists again but it was a stupid spur of the moment thing, because I can't stay at school over the summer. There isn't another Hogsmeade weekend before I have to go home, so I did it in the dorm, and of course someone found me and panicked. They've been afraid of reprisals from parents since Hereward killed himself last spring.

Had to go to meeting with Dumbledore, didn't tell him anything, just stared at the floor and muttered "Yes sir" and "No sir." Good practice for summer, I guess.

**July 8, 1959**

Uncle R surprised me at the train and asked if I'd come with him on business to France the next day. I went. Why not? I can be miserable in France just as well as home. Writing this in Paris.

He's trying to keep me away from Father, I can tell. Well, alright, I'll deprive Father of his toy, but it's not going to help anything else. I don't care. It's too late.

Saw Father kissing Rabastan before we left. I feel sick. I know there's nothing I can do.

**July 22, 1959**

Home from Paris, tried to poison Father and got caught, beaten. Can't write much, hurts too much. More later.

**August 1, 1959**

Right. I walked in on Father screwing my little brother, and then I walked out and went into the potions ingredients and got together enough wolf's bane to kill _anything_ and mixed it in with Father's tea and then canceled the poisoning alert on the dishes, and it _would_ have worked. 

Except Father's paranoid and knows everyone in the family hates him, so he apparently has a _separate_ set of enchanted poison detecting dishes that he keeps locked up in his room, and he dropped the teaspoon in the cup and it went off. So he knew someone did it and canceled the first warning and he went and asked the elves who had been in the kitchen and found out it was me.

Then he flogged me, which I wouldn't care about, but he could see it hadn't made a dent. So he got Mother and broke all of the bones in her hand one at a time in front of me instead.

There is no one I hate more in the world. Not even the Dark Lord.

**September 3, 1959**

Back at school, seventh year; only one more year before I'm permanently trapped in Hell. 

I keep looking at the first years and wondering who's being raped at home, who's going to be forced to join the Dark Lord, who's going to be murdered by him. It takes all the fun out of the job, and that used to be my favorite part of being a Prefect.

I can't have children. I don't care if the house dies out, I can't give Father another toy ~~or see them killed like Regina~~ and I'll be old and grey by the time he finally dies. He has too much spite to die young and make us all so happy.

**November 10, 1959**

Happy birthday, Regina. I still miss you. 

You'd be fourteen now, which means you've been dead for nine years, almost twice as long as you were alive. I bet you would have been brilliant and beautiful and funny ~~even without magic~~ and I'd have had the worst time with your boyfriends, and...

I can't bring you back. I can only sort of remember your face. I think this is the last of your birthdays I'll mark like this.

**December 24, 1959**

I can't remember if I said I'm seeing Giselle Zabini. I contrived to get invited home for hols with her; Father allowed it because he knows I'm generally opposed to marriage and he's hoping I'll change my mind if I find a serious girlfriend. (I'm too old for him now, so he isn't jealous anymore; he hasn't touched me since the summer Ulysse died.)

It's interesting being around the Zabinis. I remember before Grandfather died when the house was less of a mess, but he and Grandmother fought all the time, the Lestranges haven't been functional in generations. Giselle's parents were arranged - her mother's from Morocco and her family's a Zabini trading partner, they'd never even met before the wedding - but they actually like each other well enough; and her older brother's married and he and his wife are madly, obviously in love, more than Uncle R and Aunt Ino. 

Their daughter's two, her name is Monica, and _she_ is absolutely madly in love with their poor kneazle. She keeps climbing very determinedly after it so she can hug it, and it tolerates it for about fifteen seconds before leaping out of reach and hissing at her.

It's strange how everyone here likes me. I am going to feel very bad about dumping Giselle. They're hopeful, of course - I came home for Christmas with her! - but I can't put her through my family. Or put my children through it.

Nobody yells, nobody curses each other. The other day Giselle knocked over a pine bough and her mother raised her wand to flick the needles out of her hair. I saw her raise her wand and I jumped about a foot and had my wand out before I could think and everyone stared.

It didn't make them mad. I think it made them _like me_ \- I mean, of course they do, every mother is petrified her daughter will end up married to a man who beats her and here I am, seventeen and hurling myself in front of her. I'm just glad I didn't kill her mother by accident; I've been on enough hunts and in enough fights by now I could have.

The boys in the ranks keep kill counts. I don't, but people keep informing me anyway, just because they know it sickens me. Mine's thirteen. Higher than Hyperion, lower than Dunstan.

I shouldn't be here. Giselle doesn't deserve a husband like me.

**May 1, 1960**

Broke up with Giselle yesterday. 

She cried and yelled a lot of things. I'd meant to just stand there stoically but I've never been good at that, I wanted her to feel better so I said something about my Father and she said, I thought he liked me and I said he had

Anyway I ended up as good as telling her he'd started fucking me before I turned ten and I wasn't going to bring children into the house, so that was a really fun break up. She ended up apologizing to _me_. I abused my Prefect privileges to get out of the castle without being challenged and went to the Hog's Head and got really, really drunk. It didn't help.

**July 1, 1960**

Here comes the rest of my life.

Ulysse, I miss you. Happy birthday.

**September 14, 1960**

The Dark Lord's stopped sending me out to murder people, which I guess is an improvement. I'm doing accounting and management now, which is fine. I mean, I know what the numbers mean and the money's being used for, which is not fine, but it's better than having to do it myself. And I technically have the training for it.

They're talking about having me teach dueling in a few years. They think I'm good with kids. I'm not helping them train children to murder for them.

Speaking of training, Father let me take over managing the kennels. Dogs are only a status thing for him - plus he enjoys watching them rip people apart - and he's not at all patient. He makes animals hate him, he loses his temper constantly. I bet I can get the dogs to work without beating them. 

I bought some books in Diagon Alley and then - don't tell anyone - I went out to muggle London and found what the muggles are saying about animal training, which seems to be a lot more extensive than us. I don't have to tell anyone where I got the ideas when I come up with my new training program.

**December 1, 1960**

I asked Uncle R to come with me to talk to Father today and I drew and I told him I would kill him if he didn't Vow never to touch Rabastan again and he did it.

Uncle R said he was proud later. I told him I was sure Ulysse would be too, and he went white and walked out. Good. I hope he sees Ulysse die in his dreams every night. What kind of father lets his school friend kill his son?

**December 19, 1960**

Didn't mention before, I knew I could kill Father because Uncle R said I was a better duelist than him after my last practice session. I've improved a lot, apparently, since I started getting _real experience._

So I guess there's one thing I have to thank the Dark Lord for. 

Sent Giselle a Christmas card last week; she sent one back today and asked if I'd come to tea with her this week. I'm going, I guess.

**December 22, 1960**

Giselle's engaged to Delphin Merrythought. I said congratulations and I was sure she'd be happy; I've never heard anything bad about him. He's two years below us, so the wedding won't be for a while. Giselle asked if I'd come and I promised I would and said I'd steal her dances from her husband and she laughed and called me a terrible flirt. Which is true.

She asked how I was doing - you know, stuck at home with my father all the time. I almost forgot I'd told her. I was just so upset and angry and lashing out, and humiliated, it didn't occur to me that she might think anything besides disgust. But it turns out she's been worried. I told her I got him to swear a Vow not to hurt my brother anymore and she hugged me and told me I should come around for dinner, that her parents still like me - I didn't ask if she told them because I'm afraid she probably did - and they'd asked after me.

Of course, the Merrythoughts are liberals, so I probably can't get away with staying in touch with her for long. 

**August 1, 1961**

So, today I did something monumentally stupid which was _not_ related to the Dark Lord. Specifically I called out Pollux Black.

You will note that I am writing this, as opposed to having been sent to the churchyard in a ring box.

It was at the Slughorn wedding reception; his second granddaughter, Andromeda Black, is old enough to go to parties now, so she was there with her older sister Bella, and Pollux was introducing them to people. I was there with Uncle R. They're very pretty children - the whole family is - and I could see that Evan was staring down the older girl's chest, and she kept trying to pull her veil across her face and then her sister would need her attention and she'd lose her grip.

(Don't get me started on the fact that she was wearing a veil. I thought she was older because of it, but Mother says she's still thirteen.)

So that had already made me uncomfortable, and somehow or other wands came up - I think someone asked if Andromeda had hers yet because she's starting school in the fall? And Pollux Black started on Bella having a walnut wand. You know the jokes about witches with walnut wands needing to be beaten to bear any fruit? Yeah. It got more explicit than that, too.

Bella didn't cry or anything, she just kind of went flushed and stared at the floor and you could see she was used to this, and she didn't expect anyone to do anything, and I just lost it, and that was when I challenged Pollux Black to a duel.

He very kindly refrained from murdering me, and their head, Orion Black, came over to apologize to me when I was being put back together by Uncle R, so I don't seem to have started a blood feud. I'm quite sure no one has apologized to Pollux Black's granddaughters.

**January 3, 1962**

You'll never guess whose bed I spent the night in tonight - Liese Fortescue! Remember her?

She's grown up well and she's apparently making some money as a research assistant, doing some project on ancient Celtic magic. We ran across each other on the street in Diagon Alley and I asked if she wanted to get a coffee, spur of the moment. I was a little surprised she agreed.

Anyway, she said she's not married or looking because she wants to work without having small children and she was thinking of applying for junior history professor at Hogwarts and I said good luck, and we talked about her research project and I kind of dodged talking about myself. (There's nothing worth saying, really, not to a normal human being.) She said she thought I was cute in school and asked me back to her flat before I had a chance to.

She still makes the most hilarious noises when you play with her nipples. Like a hyena or something. We about fell out of the bed laughing when I said that and then we ended up going for round two on the floor.

I never said much because I didn't want it written down, but I remember how torn up I was about it when I was fourteen. I was near in love with her, and she was a halfblood, and they're not even really human like us according to Uncle R and Father, etc, etc. It seems silly now. Of course she's human, no different than I am.

I can see how if I was a normal person I could have married her - or maybe not her because she wants to work instead, but someone like her - and lived in a tiny flat like that and done the books for a shop instead of the House of Lestrange, and had a bunch of children and been happy. It doesn't seem bad. 

I don't see the _point_ of noble privilege, these days, frankly; what exactly are we fighting for? The right to make our children as miserable as us?

**July 1, 1962**

Happy twentieth birthday, Ulysse. I miss you.

**August 29, 1962**

Today I got a surprise - Cousin Alexandre wrote me.

He's the one whose twin died back in 1955 when Father inherited because he refused the mark. Their father died too in that brawl; Aunt Myrtle is their mother and she's still here. Alex fled to France with his wife and their children, though, and managed to get out. I figured he would despise the lot of us.

He asked me how I was doing and said he was sorry he hadn't written sooner, and he was sorry about Ulysse's death. I should write back, I just don't want him to know that I took the mark to save my own life. Well, he should know it's still not safe to come home if he might be thinking about it.

**October 2, 1962**

Got Alex's next reply. He's not angry with me; he wants me to visit. I'll see if I can find an excuse to give Father. There should be some reason to go to France soon, so much of our business is tied up there.

New litter of hunting dogs today, from Morwen. She was such a good tracker before her leg injury, I'm hoping one or two of the puppies has her nose. There were three plus a runt she rejected; Father told me I should drown it, but he laughed, so he doesn't really care, and I don't mind bottle feeding a dog. I mean, it's not like I'm hurting for free time.

**December 18, 1962**

Giselle's wedding was last night! 

I went and I danced with her three times until Delphin came up and laughingly asked if he needed to challenge me, and I said of course not, and Giselle batted her eyelashes and said that she was sure we didn't need to fight over her but perhaps we could fight _for_ her, so we had a show duel. 

It was a lot of fun, actually. Uncle R's right, I'm loads better than I used to be, but I can't properly enjoy fighting with the Death Eaters because I never know when I'm going to be hit with Cruciatus or something to "teach me to duck." 

Delphin's fast but he doesn't know a lot of spells. Of course I was missing half my usual repertoire and that handicapped me too, but I won and Giselle joked about running off with me, and Delphin laughed. I can tell he wasn't mad; he'll be a good husband. I'm happy for her.

**March 11, 1963**

Saw Alex and Seraphine for the first time since I was thirteen today. They were happy to see me, even though it was awkward. I can see they're much more upset about the mark than Alex pretended in his letters, he kept looking at my left arm even though it was obviously covered, but they were trying not to show it.

I'm glad, ever since Ulysse died there's no one at home I can really talk to besides Rabastan and Mother and maybe Aunt Myrtle, and Aunt Myrtle and Mother are horrified with me, so really it's just Rabastan. Who is all of eleven and doesn't count the same way.

Alex's daughters are thirteen and eleven, so they're both in school, but I promised I'd find an excuse to come over the summer some time and meet them. I saw pictures, which is more than I had before. Ghislaine - she's the older one - is really beautiful, it's funny because of course Alex and Seraphine are both Lestranges and look pretty alike, but Ghislaine got just the right combination of their looks to smooth out her face and figure so she's just drop dead gorgeous. She's going to get a hell of a dowry, I can already see that. Alex says he's had proposals already but he won't make any commitments until she's at least sixteen.

Actually, I think he was hinting that he'd let me marry her and come to France when she grows up. I could, I guess; the Dark Lord can't necessarily pursue me over the border so easily. I'd still be leaving Mother and Rabastan, though.

**July 5, 1965**

Uncle R says he thinks the Dark Lord is going to step up his plans soon. So instead of "practice" hunts and the occasional kidnapping there will be a real war.

Maybe I should reconsider abandoning _my_ plan to commit suicide.

Happy birthday, Ulysse; sorry I forgot last week.

**November 1, 1965**

Slept with Astrid Rosier after the Halloween ball last night. She's quite good looking, pretty blond curls, nice breasts. Of course she's also marked and it turns out that once she gets drunk she starts going on about The Scourge of Mudbloods so then I had to get up and leave before I strangled her.

**January12, 1966**

Father now requires me to attend the Wizengamot for him and vote for the Dark Lord's policies. I'm probably lucky I have a reputation for being shy around other men or they'd make me argue for them, too.

**January 1, 1968**

Rabastan takes the mark this year unless I can save him, and the problem is that he doesn't want to be saved.

If it was just a matter of - of something like me and Ulysse I know what I'd do. I've been exchanging letters with Alex and Seraphine for years now and they still don't like that I'm following orders but they wouldn't let that spite them. I'd take him to Paris with me for "work experience," and I'd have them spirit him away behind the French cousins' wards and tell Father he ran off. They wouldn't believe me, but what is he going to do, kill his only heir? Mother's not capable of bearing more children and Aunt Ino can't take the time off work for the Dark Lord.

But Rabastan _wants_ to serve, is the thing. He adores me and Uncle R and Aunt Ino, and he doesn't really remember Ulysse, let alone everyone Father killed - he was three years old in 1955! All he knows is what he's been hearing people say all his life about how muggles are corrupting our society and how noble and courageous it is to fight them.

And I can't tell him any different because if they think I'm corrupting Rabastan and he's still around to replace me they _will_ kill me, and he'll be just as stuck. I just have to hint. And hope.

**June 30, 1968**

Well. He's marked now. Maybe the experience will change his mind.

**August 15, 1968**

Got a new falcon today, captive bred but not at all tamed. Walking her is a good distraction from Rabastan partying. I have to stay calm in order to work on taming her, so that my stride and arms will stay calm and I'll be patient, so I can't think so much about wanting to die.

I'm thinking about naming her Regina, but I can't, of course, Father and Uncle R would know who it was after.

**October 7, 1968**

You'll never guess who I was introduced to today - by the Dark Lord, of all people. It was little Bella Black!

Only she's not so little anymore, she's twenty-one. I don't think I mentioned she had dragon pox over the summer - or well, "dragon pox," because her sister eloped with a mudblood and she's suspiciously free of pockmarks now she's supposedly better. You can tell she's been ill, but I suppose it was probably torture.

Anyway, the Dark Lord asked her to work with me on designing a training program for the new recruits. Apparently he thinks that her insights from her family's teaching methods will be useful, and she's got a grip on some of the trickier magic. She's a lot more pleasant to work with than most of the people I'm stuck with, and worlds away from Father; she has a sense of humor, for one thing. 

Uncle R laughed when I said so and said that I'd better be careful and I said "Like a monk." Of course she's not remotely in the mood for anything now, but I wouldn't mind it at all if she turns out to be interested later. She can't possibly get invested in marriage for one thing, she's as high ranked as us, and she's been engaged to her cousin for ages.

She was a pretty child, I said that ages and ages ago, didn't I? She still looks a little ill, but under that now she's _breathtaking_. I could look at her for years.

**Author's Note:**

> Liked this? Consider [reblogging it on tumblr](https://slashmarks.tumblr.com/post/190737479340/capitulation), or just come talk to me.
> 
> For people wondering about the verse this fits into, ftr, this isn't really a common Death Eater backstory and it's part of why he and Bellatrix picked each other for their marriage of convenience. 
> 
> That said, men who are encouraged to go around violently abusing the underclass often bring it home. So it's not an _uncommon_ one either.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Capitulation by slashmarks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22973977) by [JocundaSykes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JocundaSykes/pseuds/JocundaSykes)




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